I can’t breathe so I stop fighting. You don’t say a word. You don’t tell me to hush – you don’t have to … I get the point and realize that...if I fight this will end badly. So I stop struggling and wait for a better moment when I can resist and maybe get away then … You tie my hands behind my back and take your belt off for my ankles but you don’t hog tie me just bind my ankles so tight it hurts to move them … the hard leather from the belt is burning on my skin but I don’t say anything out of. He stood taller than my mistress, so I couldn’t see his face, but laid-back attitude and rich, cheerful laughter painted a pleasant picture in my mind. He quickly introduced himself as Martin, and, being a fluent English speaker, he wasted no time indulging my mistress in a hearty conversation. Martin’s parents had left the store to him seven years ago, when he was only 23, but he had good friends and with their help the place kept running smoothly. He was grateful for what he had; however, it. More

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